


Problem Solving

by variableIntroversion



Series: After The End Of The World [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk and Alpha Dave kiss yo, I don't actually have that many tags for this, Incest, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variableIntroversion/pseuds/variableIntroversion
Summary: Your name is Dirk Strider, 19, and you absolutely don't have a problem. You don't because if you don't want something to be a problem, then it isn't. And right now? You most certainly, definitely, do not have any problems.And above all, you do not have any problems with your bro....Yeah, self-denial gets pretty bland after a few months.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal & Dirk Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dave Strider, Dirk Strider & Dave Strider, Dirk's Bro | Alpha Dave Strider/Dirk Strider
Series: After The End Of The World [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528694
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Dirk Strider, 19, and you absolutely don't have a problem. You don't because if you don't want something to be a problem, then it isn't. And right now? You most certainly, definitely, do _not_ have any problems.

And above all, you do not have any problems with your bro.

...

Yeah, self-denial gets pretty bland after a few months.

See, it doesn't _have_ to classify as a problem, because you have it under control. So it's less of a problem, and more of a nuisance. A hassle. That's what it is.

The thing is, you don't find it unreasonable that you've developed...more than brotherly feelings towards him. You were almost ten when you first discovered his existence, for one thing, and then you spent so much time idolizing him, imagining what it would be like if you could actually spend time with him. And then you got that chance, three years ago, and you've taken full advantage of it ever since. And your bro? He's great. He's really great, because of course he is, and he goes out of his way to spend time with you, which is both flattering and exactly the kind of attention you need. And to top it all off, he's pretty damn easy on the eyes.

It really isn't a shock that you've caught those pesky things called feelings for him, but it is still a hassle.

Mainly, because you're sure he wouldn't reciprocate. You personally don't care much for the morality of it, and any other issues are perfectly easy to negate. No risk of pregnancy, no power imbalance, you're both of age...

The only problem within this hassle is that the chances of your bro having the same mindset are slim to none. Hal has run the numbers, and they didn't turn up favorable. For once, you were inclined to agree with him. It's so improbable that you've barely bothered thinking of ways to try and win him over. Not that you're in that business after how disastrously it went the last time. It's a pretty well-proven fact that you do not do well with romance.

So there's not much to do about it, except keep it to yourself and hope you'll move on. That first half is easy, but after two years waiting on the latter, you aren't all that convinced that it will happen. You've been trying, of course. Distracting yourself with projects, by spending time with your friends, even with going out and finding random lays. You stopped with the last one when you caught yourself pining for your bro as you lay in someone else's bed.

In the end, all you can do is keep it to yourself and keep cool around your bro. He doesn't seem to be able to read you, so you're pretty sure he hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He acts the same as always around you, and you try to enjoy that for what it is. Just some prime hang-out time between two chill dudes.

Nothing more.

...But fuck, you wish it was more.

"It may be time to face the issue head-on." Hal drops that on you on some innocuous Monday evening, when you're doing maintenance on his body. Between Roxy's encouragement, Rose's reassurance that she couldn't foresee any issues, and your own guilt, you finally gave in and built him one. With a few limitations that you've kept to yourself, though you're sure he's noticed them.

"There are exactly zero reasons for why I should risk damaging my relationship with him over a _nuisance_ that I have under control."

"Because you've been dealing with this 'nuisance' of yours for two years, Bromeo. And it seems that you have made approximately zero progress towards moving past it. Despite your best and most questionable efforts."

You scowl at the back of his head, and very carefully do not use any vindictively sharp movements to pry the paneling on his back open.

"And how, exactly, is potentially alienating him going to help me 'move past it'?"

"Simple. Either he reciprocates, as unlikely as I calculate that to be, or he rejects you. Without that enticing 'what if' hanging over your head, there is at least a fifty-seven percent chance you will have an easier time with moving on."

"With an above-average chance that I'll destroy our existing rapport in the process. My peace of mind isn't worth that much."

"You would trade your peace of mind for a single corn chip."

"You aren't my peace of mind."

He laughs at you through his nose, the same way you laugh, and you know from how he tilts his head that he's rolled his eyes.

"No, but I am a piece of your mind. A significantly large one, in fact, which is exactly why I know that you won't stop obsessing over this until you do something about it."

You grit your teeth because you know he's right. And you hate that he's right. What else is new?

"I'm not interested." You say, just to be difficult. He lets out an unnecessary breath that sounds almost heavy with disbelief.

"That's the most blatant lie you've told in your life, broski. And that's saying something." You answer him with dead silence, because you know you're a sentence away from falling into bad destructive habits. You've been trying to avoid those. You've been trying really fucking hard, and he's not making it easy today.

Maybe he realizes that, though, because surprisingly enough his voice gets softer and his next suggestion doesn't make you want to punch him. "Perhaps you should try talking with the younger Dave."

It comes so out of left field that your hands falter for a moment and you just sit there, trying to jump through the mental hoops that Hal's apparently already traveled. Would talking about this freak Dave out? You two have maintained a good friendship over the years, but you aren't as close to him as you are with your bro. He wouldn't tell anyone about it, even if it did make him uncomfortable and cause him to drift away. Assuming he didn't just sweep it under the rug and pretend he never heard it in the first place. At the very least, he might be able to confirm whether or not his alt-self will be disgusted with you.

The pros outweigh the cons by a large enough margin that you're actually considering it.

"...That might work." You finally concede. Even without seeing his face, you can sense Hal's smugness.

"At this point, it's the best option you've got."

You hate it when he's right.


	2. Chapter 2

Dave is, luckily, free to meet up when you text him. He agrees to swing by your place, and you arrange things so that he arrives while your bro is out for a few hours. Your life is absolutely not going to be a shitty sit-com where the person you're talking about forgets their keys or something and overhears a sensitive conversation about them.

So almost an hour after one Dave leaves, another arrives. Hal has done you a rare favor and made himself scarce, leaving the penthouse to you and your ecto-bro for a while. You're sure he's watching through your shades, but that's so par for the course that you barely think about it.

The first few minutes of the visit are casual. Just business as usual, catching up and filling each other in on every day going-ons that didn't get passed through Pesterchum. As you two talk you wander into the kitchen, raiding the fridge for drinks. You both wind up leaned against the counters, chatting between sips as you shoot the shit like a couple of awesome dudes. It would almost be relaxed - comfortable really - if you weren't so tense every time you think of bringing up your little problem.

You don't know if you're lucky or cursed when Dave finally gives you the chance.

"So did you call me over just to hang out, or was there something else to this? Like don't get me wrong, it's cool seeing you and everything, but you usually only do the face to face thing if something's up or you were invited or whatever."

You steel yourself into an air of impassiveness and give a single, totally chill nod. "I need your advice for something."

He lifts one eyebrow over the rim of his shades, just the same as your bro but a decade less refined. "Okay? Sure, Dave Strider is in the house, ready to fix your shit. Shoot."

There's no point in stalling, and very little in pussyfooting around it. Maybe you should ease into it more for his sake, but you were always a fan of ripping the band-aid off quickly. You do him the favor of waiting until he's not in the middle of taking a drink, though.

"I'm romantically interested in my bro."

The entire room goes perfectly still and silent for a moment. Dave is completely unreadable as he stands there, poker face going strong while he processes the bomb you just dropped. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifts his AJ and takes a long sip. So long that you can see the packet starting to deflate before he's finished. 

"So you're asking me if he likes you back, y/n?" He sounds perfectly calm, and you really didn't expect that. You were prepared for awkward rambling and nervous metaphors and pacing, not this epitome of chill. It almost feels like a trap, except Dave doesn't really do traps or mind games. So you're probably safe to commit yourself to this conversation and not play it off as some ironic joke.

"Partially. Above anything, I would like to make sure that I'm not at risk of ruining the relationship we already have."

He takes another long sip of his AJ. The packet is empty, so you do him the courtesy of getting another while he throws it out.

"Pretty sure it'll work out fine, dude. There's a ninety percent chance he's already thinking about it and just a mile up denial river. Probably thinking he's protecting you or some stupid shit by keeping it to himself." As relieving as that advice is, Dave sounds suspiciously confident in it. To the point that you're now lifting your own eyebrow at him as you hand off the juice. He shuffles his feet in that distinctly uncomfortable way that you always catch in him and never in your bro.

"Not to doubt the resident Dave Strider expert, but how exactly are you so certain of that?" Not that it's doubt, so much as it is suspicion.

"Because he's a mash up of my glorious self and sort-of Bro, so his logic is pretty much guaranteed to be the same. Besides, that's the sort of logic I'd probably follow if I were him. Not that he's really using logic, I'd bet half my boondollars that he hasn't thought on it that hard before trying to sweep it under the rug like the evasive bastard he is. Actually scratch that I'm already zero to one on bets right now and I worked hard for that useless money. What do boondollars even _do_ anyways-?"

"We used them to convert items into grist. What do you mean by 'the same logic'?" Usually you'd humor Dave's rambling, but right now your mind is running at a hundred miles per hour and you're far too tense to let him go on and on. He pauses, as if he's catching up with his own words, then his face does this series if micro-expressions that you don't know what to make of. In the end he shrugs, shoving his free hand into his pocket and going through another half packet of juice.

"Dude, you have the hots for your bro he has the hots for you. We're all basically remixes of each other. Take a wild fuckin' guess."

You need less than five seconds to take a wild fuckin' guess.

"You're pining after your bro?"

Dave shrugs and chuckles quietly, and interestingly enough, you think you see his cheeks coloring a bit. "A little more than just pining."

This information, now that you think about it, should not floor you in the slightest. But it somehow still does, and you can almost feel your brain put up a buffer symbol as you fully process all of the implications of that short sentence.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Huh."

Dave's lips jump in an aborted smile that he tries to hide with his drink. You can't really resent it with such high-quality irony in the situation.

Dave's already gone down this road with his bro, apparently successfully.

Which means there's a high chance of you having the same success with your bro, if you play your cards right.

But it's not guaranteed.

But it's still a higher chance than you could have hoped for when you woke up this morning.

High enough of a chance that you'll take it.

"Yo, Earth C to Dirk. What's your status? I know the prospect of sleeping with any version of me is mind-blowing and all but you were due to check in with ground control forty-eight seconds ago."

You zone back in halfway through the metaphor and wonder if you really had gone dead silent for that long. The likelihood is high, and you aren't exactly interested in arguing time-keeping with Dave of all people.

"Sorry, ground control. Technical difficulties. My inner monologue stick got stuck in the 'on' position. Practically fucking welded into place. Had to get out the big guns to loosen it up. I'm talking WD-40 and crowbar levels of repair work."

The corner of Dave's mouth ticks up for a moment and you watch his whole demeanor shift into the closest thing to open affection a Strider can get while still fronting. 

"Don't worry about it. Like, actually don't worry too hard about it. The thing with your bro, I mean. He's gonna be evasive and try to bullshit his way out of it but it's pretty much definitely 'cause he just doesn't know how to deal. You might have to talk about feelings-"

"Oh no."

"-yeah, but it's actually good advice. Came straight from the mouth of the master of romance and everything."

"I don't know if I want second hand life advice from Karkat."

"Lucky for you this isn't advice on how to live your life, it's advice on how to get into your brother's pants. Tested and Dave Strider approved. Ten outta ten product, makes you want to crawl out of your skin while simultaneously aiding in the success of all of your Freudian desires."

That manages to startle a muffled laugh out of you, one of the breathy closed-mouth ones. Dave's looking subtly smug over it, like it's an achievement for him, but it's not the infuriating kind of smugness that Hal gets that you want punch him for. And admittedly, you're feeling a lot better with the joking and reassurance, even if there are a few unshakeable nerves left behind.

"Do I get my money back, guaranteed?"

"No, fuck you, I already owe Bro fifty of my useless boonbucks. I'll go bankrupt at this rate, my life will fall into shambles. I'll have to sell the house and live in my car, taking donations and starring in ad campaigns for the homeless so I can eat that night."

"The fact that we've practically eradicated homelessness aside, what do you owe him for? I'm assuming it has something to do with the aforementioned bet."

Dave doesn't answer right away, which immediately tells you that he's waffling on whether he wants to tell you or not. You lift an eyebrow at him to put that low-burn kind of pressure on, and he lets out a minuscule sigh.

"We bet on how long it'd take for you to start making moves on Dave Senior and I lost by a spectacular five-month landslide." He has the decency to look a little embarrassed by the admission. You lift the eyebrow a little higher, just for a moment, then shrug.

"How long did you bet?"

"Nine months. He bet six."

"I could stall for a few months."

"Hell no. You're gonna turn your brain into stew or something, you've probably already waited some ridiculous amount of time agonizing over this." Your silence answers for you, and you're sure he rolls his eyes at you behind his shades. "Just hurry up and make out with your bro."

"Can do." You hope.


	3. Chapter 3

It's times like this that make you thankful that you can sort-of read your bro. Granted, it's easier because of the time you've spent with Dave. They have a lot of similar tells, despite how different their upbringings were. And Dave has had a lot less time to perfect hiding them away, so he's like the easy practice version that prepares you for hard mode.

And it is still hard, reading your bro, but it's not impossible. You can catch the small double-glances that go by so quick, you would miss them if you blinked. You can feel the way he slightly tenses and shifts in place before settling whenever you lean a bit more against him on the couch. Hal does you the service of recording his reactions whenever you walk around the apartment in nothing but a small towel after showers. You're pretty sure he's just enjoying the schadenfreude of watching the subtle ways it makes your bro metaphorically squirm. Hal helpfully notes that he will go eighty-three percent more still whenever you're in a state of undress. Usually looking straight ahead with just barely-there glances.

It's all subtle enough that you hadn't noticed it before, when you weren't making a concerted effort into baiting reactions from him. But now you have, and you're feeling more confident about this whole endeavor. Not that you wanted to doubt Dave, but you had to rule out the chance that your bro was completely uninterested.

Now all that's left is actually taking the leap. The only problem is, you have trust issues with yourself when it comes to these sort of things. Can't imagine why. It's not as if the last time you tried to win someone's romantic interest, you went entirely over the top and pressured them into a relationship that you proceeded to utterly ruin.

Yeah, not at all.

You really should swallow your pride and just get some advice.

TT: So how would one theoretically go about not-cataclysmically sweeping one Dave Strider off his feet?   
TT: I'm asking for a friend, of course.   
TG: of course   
TG: ok listen the fuck up because class is now in session and professor dave strider is here to once again fix your shit   
TT: I'm swooning.   
TG: as you fucking should be now shut up and let me school you   
TT: Of course.   
TG: alright so the thing with me   
TG: and im gonna be laying out some embarrassing self revelation here yo so you better fucking appreciate   
TT: I'm thoroughly indebted to you. Put it on my tab.   
TG: will do   
TG: so the thing with me is im like seriously evasive and i know for a fact mr director is too   
TG: like we see something we dont like or have an interpersonal situation we dont wanna deal with and we have this bad habit of not dealing with it   
TG: like at all   
TG: im talking full on ramble distractions and shitty excuses to ollie the fuck outie   
TT: Yes, I've noticed.   
TG: well ok first of all ouch talk about biting the hand that feeds you   
TT: Is telling the truth that malicious in this case?   
TG: no its just rude as hell but an e ways   
TG: youre probably gonna have to almost literally corner him into confronting that you both wanna mack on each other   
TG: but you cant just like pin him down and get to tonsil hockey because one thats creepy and two thatll hit his panic button and hell probably nope right outta there and crank the evasion up to twelve   
TG: see its like hes a nervous woodland creature that you have to corner and then approach gently like a fucking disney princess   
TG: just with like   
TG: a bit more force   
TG: and less singing   
TT: Is the dress optional.   
TG: its recommended actually   
TG: he sure as hell would like it   
TT: ...   
TG: ...   
TT: Good to know for future escapades.   
TT: So did your bro have to ease you into a relationship like a frightened deer or   
TG: no fuck that i was the one taking the relational ram by the gogdamn horns aldk   
TG: He kissed me and then nearly had a panic attack.   
TT: Ah. That aligns more with what I was expecting.   
TG: bro get the fuck out of my handle   
TG: Just doing my civic duty and making sure no false information gets passed around.   
TG: upstage my dignity from your own handle this is identity theft   
TG: And what are you gonna do about it?   
TT: I'm going to go and focus on my own brother fucking.   
TT: You two have fun.   
TG: Good luck.   
TG: i hate you both

Your lips turn up for a moment as you close Pesterchum on your shades. It's one thing for Dave to tell you he and his bro are together, but it's something else to get a glimpse into how they interact. There's something reassuring about it. How at ease they still seem to be with each other, like the only thing that's changed is a subtle undertone of flirtation thrown into the mix. You can only hope that the same thing will happen when it comes to you and your bro.

A blip in the corner of your shades draws you out of your thoughts, and you open Pesterchum again.

TT: So.   
TT: Would you like help picking out a dress?

* * *

You (only somewhat) reluctantly decided against the dress for the time being. You don't want to come on too strong, after all. Really, you don't dress up for it at all. When your bro comes home from work, you're just sitting at the kitchen island in jeans and a t-shirt, scrolling through your phone. Hal has once again jumped ship for the next few hours. You think he might be just as cautious about courtship as you are, after Jake. Even if he won't let it slip.

"Sup." D greets, sweeping right past you and zeroing in on the fridge. You wonder briefly if he'll notice his AJ supplies took a hit, but he barely glances in as he snags himself a bottle. You'll have to restock later.

"Yo." You answer, because you need to fill the silence with something, or he'll get uncomfortable.

This is the hard part, right here. The part where you have to talk about feelings or some shit. Except Striders don't do feelings very well, you least of all, and how do you tell your bro that you want a romantic relationship with him?

Probably not bluntly.

"We should fuck."

You are, unfortunately, a very blunt person sometimes.

Gog fucking damn it.

The only upside is you had enough sense to say that after D swallowed and before he went for another sip. It's almost something like déjà vu for a second, except this time there is indeed some spluttering and what you're sure are wide-eyed stares. That's fine, that was expected. This is step one. This is the part where you open the conversation and corner him. Now you just have to carry things through to their conclusion without your bro bolting like the startled deer with emotional constipation that he is.

"Wow okay what? Actually no I heard you just. What? Dude there's a Freudian slip and then there's a Freudian "jump straight down the incest stairs" and I didn't think I had to warn you about those stairs, but uh. In case you missed the memo-"

"I didn't." You cut in. D's mouth tenses into a thin line for a second, probably as he tries to figure out how to deal with this, so you take the opportunity to press forward. "I'm well aware of the societal views on incest, as well as all of the complications that arise with it. But considering all of said complications are basically null and void in our instance, the only reason not to is if one of us isn't interested."

You slide to your feet, slow and smooth as if any sudden movements might startle him. D stands rooted in place, squeezing the bottle of juice so hard you're surprised it hasn't spilled or cracked yet.

"I'm- I- I don't- I mean- I have a thing. That like, needs doing. Right now. Sorry, I-"

"No you don't." Your interruption makes him close his mouth so sharply, you could swear you hear a 'click'. Careful, you remind yourself as you begin walking around the kitchen island. Don't get too controlling or demanding. Don't fall into bad habits. Please, please don't fall into bad habits.

D is shifting weight from foot to foot now, the first time you've seen that tell of Dave's in him. He must be extremely uncomfortable, and that's almost enough for you to flag before you remind yourself that it's just because he doesn't want to confront the issue. You have to press it without being too heavy-handed. Firm but gentle, that's what you tell yourself, that's what you relegate your tone to.

"If you don't want to you don't want to, bro. But consider this a wide open invitation." You're standing in front of him now. Close, closer than usual, but not chest to chest. You wish you could get his shades off him. You can see him hesitating and struggling to figure out a reply, but you have no idea what his full expression is. You really fucking wish you could get a read on what he's feeling right now.

"I- Dirk this isn't- it's not right-"

"Why?" You shoot off the challenge immediately, and don't get any answer half as quickly. D seems to open and then shut his mouth for what you assume is every potential argument in the book, seeming to cycle through them now that he has no choice.

It might be your imagination, but it feels like you watch the fight start to drain out of him.

"I don't want to fuck you up." Is what he finally settles on, sounding somewhere between nervous and defeated. The first thing your mind latches on to is the fact that he's practically admitting he's interested. The second is the absurdity of that sentence.

"Believe me, out of the two of us I'm far more likely to cause that problem." He opens his mouth to argue again, so you jump in again. "Even if I wasn't, the only way you're likely to fuck me up is literally. I have actually put extensive thought into this."

"Into me fucking you or all the ways I could fuck you up?" D snorts, still sounding just shy of hysterical.

"Both." You answer quick and confident again, and this time maybe enjoy the way it makes him momentarily blue screen. What's even more satisfying is watching the way his cheeks seem to be coloring a little, which means his mind is probably exploring that first possibility. You allow yourself to smirk at that, then lean closer, so you're invading his space. "So?"

This time there isn't any spluttering, stammering, or visible panic. He poker faces and stares at you, long and hard. It makes you nervous, not that you'll show it, because there's still the very real possibility that he'll reject you. That he'll pick a useless morality over what you both apparently want.

"You're going to be the death of me." He sighs, and you aren't sure if he's denying you or not until you feel his hands settle at your waist. Your smirk spreads wider and you take that last step into his bubble, so now your chests are brushing and you've got your faces only a couple inches apart.

"Just a little one."

He laughs that time, open and honest and a little louder than usual. You think he might be working off some of his own nerves, but you can feel the lack of tension when you drape your arms over his shoulders. And he's blushing again, which is a score for you because damn does he look nice with a little color in his cheeks. Really, he just looks nice in general right now. Still in a suit, tie loosened, the hint of crow's feet in the corner of his eyes.

Not a soul could blame you for kissing him in that moment. He makes a some kind of startled noise in the back of his throat, and you feel his shoulders stiffen briefly. But only briefly, and a moment later you get the satisfaction of feeling him kissing back. Not shy, definitely experienced, but not anything dirty thus far. You try at changing that by swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, and a thrill runs through you when he responds in kind.

It starts to get a little more heated from there. You take your sweet time exploring his mouth, let him do the same to you. Then you introduce a bit of teeth to his lip - just a nibble, gentle for now. He doesn't respond much, so you leave that alone and just enjoy what does work. Slowly though, it starts escalating, and you're pressing your body closer to D's. He breaks the kiss when you lightly grind against him, looking even redder in the face and slightly apologetic.

"Gonna have to take a rain check on the main event. Like don't take this the wrong way but a guy needs some time to get his head around these kinda things before jumping into the deep end, ya know?"

Right. Right, this is kind of a big deal. It wouldn't be fair to expect D to make the leap from a bit of kissing straight into full-blown sex without so much as ten minutes to process this turn of events. Slow down there, Strider.

So you nod and steal one more kiss, just a quick one because you can, and tip your head towards the phone. "I'll buy you dinner."

That gets another laugh from him, breathier and more like his usual quiet ones, followed up by a nod. "Sounds good. Pizza?"

"Whatever the lady wants." You nod solemnly and exert next to no effort at holding D up when he playfully swoons into your arms. The man's practically made of coat hangers. You could probably carry two of him.

"Oh, Mr. Strider, you really know the way to a damsel's heart."

"Did you just Heart pun me."

"...Fuck."


End file.
